


The Song Remains the Same (wip)

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Brainwashing, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control, Season gr8, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is taken once more by Naomi, but this time Dean knows what's going on and will do whatever he can to prevent it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Half a bottle. That wasn’t much. There had been a time when he could drink the whole bottle and not feel a thing. But he had given up on it, he had tried so hard not to drink, to not let himself become numb. And why? He had plenty to be numb for. His brother was dying, the brother he had sworn to look out for, His best friend had let him kill him and then he wouldn’t come back. Cas, whatever he was, was gone, had abandoned him without an explanation, had betrayed him over and over again. There was nothing that he wanted to feel for.   
So he had grabbed a bottle of whiskey, something too old and too expensive to be wasted on drinking to be drunk and he drank it to be drunk. Now he was sitting on his bed, head in his hands, his knuckles white. He could still feel, even through his drunken haze. He could feel rage and hatred and self loathing.   
He wanted to break the bottle of whiskey, use the glass to slice through his veins. He wanted to drink until his died. He wanted to stop existing. He wanted to pull out a semi automatic rifle and go after every demon in the country. He needed violence and pain and destruction. He needed a tire iron in his hands and something that couldn’t fight back beneath him.   
There was a light fluttering sound and he couldn’t even look up at the angel standing in his room. He didn’t want him there. Cas had tried to kill him, it may not have been him, but with what Naomi had said, he couldn’t be sure. And it didn’t change the fact that Cas had almost beaten him to death and then had taken the angel tablet from them.  
“Dean.” Cas mumbled.  
“Shove it, Cas.” Dean growled, finally glaring up at his one time friend. Cas looked small on the bare side of the room, shoulders hunched, trench coat a mess, an old brown backpack in his hands.   
“I wanted-“  
“I said shut it!” Dean exclaimed, his voice deep and hoarse and terrible. He stood up and immediately regretted the action. “You think I don’t know why you’re here? I do Cas, and the answer is no! You’re not forgiven! You have betrayed me, Sam, so many times, and why? We never get to know what’s going on in that stupid head of yours!”  
“Dean, please-“  
“I don’t need to hear it. I don’t care. You have crossed so many lines, Cas, switched sides so many times! Why would you think I would take you back? Why would you think I could ever trust you again.”  
“shut up…”  
“I can’t do this, anymore, Cas! I can’t pick up after you anymore! I can’t ignore all of the damage you’ve caused! You break everything you touch.”  
“SHUT UP!” Cas shouted and his face, there was so much pain in it, so much anger, more than Dean would ever thought could exist there. “They are coming, alright? Naomi and her people! I don’t have much time and your shit isn’t helping any!”  
The rage and fire fell from Cas’s face, leaving only the pain and now, terror. “They're already here.”  
Dean didn’t understand it. Maybe he was too drunk but what was Cas talking about?  
The fear grew in his eyes and then Dean saw it, that bitch in the pantsuit, Naomi, appearing behind Cas. He dropped his backpack to the ground before turning, before trying to fight her off. She had no blade though, was just coming at him with arms outstretched.   
“Dean!” he growled, “Don’t let them take me! Please! You can’t! Please don’t let them take me again!”  
But he could do nothing. Cas was already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds a way

He was horrible, a monster, worse than that. He held his head in his hands and trembled, sobriety poking up its head and fighting through the murkiness of whiskey. Why hadn’t he done anything? Why hadn’t he saved Cas? Why couldn’t he have just shut up and listened? Cas was trying to tell him something important, warn him about Naomi and he had just shouted him down.   
The last thing Cas had heard were in anger. Dean hated himself for that, the fact that the last thing Cas may ever hear from him being words that made it seem like he hated him.   
Dean couldn’t hate Cas. No matter what happened, he just couldn’t bring himself to actually hate the angel.   
He would get to Cas, he knew that much. He didn’t know how, but he would get Cas, beg him for forgiveness. It was likely that the angel was dead already but that didn’t matter, Dean still had to atone.   
He dragged himself up from the bed and slinked out of his room, arms wrapped tight around the brown backpack that Cas had left. He hadn’t even opened it yet.   
Sam, oblivious, was sitting at one of the tables in the library, nose deep in yet another book. How much could he read?  
“Hey.” He said, absentmindedly, as Dean collapsed in the chair beside him.   
“Is there some way to get to Heaven from here?” Dean’s voice sounded quiet, distant, even to him.   
“What?” Sam was troubled, reaching towards Dean but Dean wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t relax, his shoulders by his ears, and he wouldn’t stop clutching to that bag. “Dean what happened?”  
Dean couldn’t say. He bit his lip and tried to blink away the wetness accumulating in his lashes.   
“It was Cas, wasn’t it?” Sam’s voice was soft, nice, it was like he was trying to be the older one, protecting Dean instead of the other way around. “You saw him.”  
Dean nodded, “And Naomi. She came and dragged him away. And I said some things Sammy, I said things I should have never said.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “I have to get him out of there, Sam. I have to save hi. I have to apologize.”  
“We’ll figure something out.” Sam promised, “Everything will be okay.”  
Dean nodded again, trying to believe him. It didn’t take long for Sam to think of something, he was always really good at that.   
“What about Reapers? I mean, we got one to take me to Hell, maybe one could lead you to Heaven?”  
Dean shook his head, “They wouldn’t, not with Ajay dead. And even if they would, how would we find one?”  
Sam smiled at that. “You’ve heard of an out of body experience?”  
“Yeah, we did that with Pamela. Where are we going to get a psychic?”  
“You don’t actually need a psychic. We just needed Pamela because we didn’t know what we were doing and she made it more long term. You can do it on your own too.”  
Dean perked up a bit. He couldn’t believe he was actually agreeing to this so far.   
“What do I need to do?”  
Sam pulled out his laptop and started to research. It wasn’t a long search, it seemed a lot of people tried this kind of thing out.   
“Okay, you’re going to have to be alone for this, Dean, have to strip, lock out all sounds and touch, a lot of people recommend being in the bath for this. Just basically feel like your floating. Then you close your eyes and focus on nothing but your breathing. Then you stop focusing on that and just on where you want to go.”  
“So I’ll be a naked ghost?”  
“Not really.” Sam shrugged, “Once you’re out you can look however you want if you focus hard enough.”  
Dean stood up, all of his muscles lax and sagging. “I’ll do it.”  
Sam stared up at him, “Just like that?” Dean never rushed into mystical stuff, he wanted to be absolutely sure.  
“Every moment I waste is another moment Cas could be dead.” Dean argued, heading towards the bathroom. “I can’t let that happen, Sam, not this time.”  
Sam followed him out of the library a hand on his shoulder. He still wasn’t letting go of that bag. Sam looked at it, curiously.  
“What is that?”  
“It’s Cas’s.” Dean shrugged.  
“Do you know what’s inside?”  
Dean shook his head. He hadn’t even thought to look. He did now. The bag was full, silver feathers with blue freckles and black tips being about half of it. There was a slim moleskin journal, a few vials, some of red and some of a glowing blue, an angel blade, some charms, and a Tupperware full of holy oil. Cas had them stocked.   
Dean took a feather in hand, stroking it between thumb and finger, looking over it and feeling that choked feeling growing in his throat once more. He’d seen angel feathers before, they had them in the Impala, but those were small vials of ash, not actual feathers. These were Cas’s. He could smell his angel on them, he knew that these could belong to no one else.   
Sam was flipping through the journal, neither one of them stopping as they walked towards the bathroom.   
“Oh wow.” Sam breathed.   
“What?” Dean looked over. There was a lot of writing on the page, robotic, almost typed, no personality in the penmanship. It was all very tightly crammed.  
“It’s just, wow.” Sam chuckled uncomfortably, “This is, well, it’s personal. It’s really really personal.”  
“What do you mean?”  
But Sam skipped ahead, breath evening out as he reached drawings of sigils and instructions. “There we go. He gave us instructions. What to do to ward the place better, hide it from angels better. They won’t be able to enter.”  
“But we want Cas to be able to enter.”  
“Yeah, but just in case. That’s nice of him.”  
Dean clutched the backpack tighter to his chest. That was nice of Cas. Of course it was. Cas would never do something to hurt them intentionally, not without a lot of outside forces. He was willing to bet that that was his blood in some of those vials, his grace in others. How much was he willing to give for them? How little had they done in return?  
Dean finally handed the backpack to Sam, making him swear that no harm would come to it, as he headed into the bathroom. He lock the door behind him and filled the tub with warm water before stripping down. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this but, well, Cas would do much more for him, had done, even before they’d ever met.   
He slid his old bones, older than their years, into the bath and hummed at the warmth before turning the water off. He tried to clear his mind, but it was hard to do, especially since he kept picturing such terrible things to be happening to Cas. Eventually though they faded and he was left in a half sleep, counting his breaths.


End file.
